Motherhood Hiccup

With a future of uncertainty,

I somehow find the will to face my fears.

But who will wipe my worried tears?

I often found myself at odds with myself after my son’s medical condition became known shortly after his birth. The days I spent in the hospital alone with my husband were some of the longest. Though I hadn’t forgotten him, I continuously felt like I had lost him. Babies would cry just outside the closed door but none of those cries belonged to my son. His cries were heard a hundred miles away, where he, too, was alone. Without his parents, he depended on his medical team to keep him warm and safe while his future was as cloudy as a storm ridden sky.

I could go on forever about the twenty five days of my son’s stay in the NICU at Children’s Hospital of WI and how the emotions alone were enough to destroy me mentally, physically, and emotionally. I could go to say that the few close calls following his necessary surgeries were enough to make me relish his beautiful blue eyes and smile just that much more. But I’d be living in the past and I needed to stop putting the blame on myself for something that wasn’t the fault of anyone’s.

My son was born with a defect. That’s all there was to it. I’ve said it aloud to myself countless times to help me let it go. But this is the first time I’ve been able to put it in writing. And not delete it…

My son was born with a defect. Though I can tell you now that if you saw him, you’d never know the difference. You’d never even guess he were the same baby if I showed you two pictures. He is the strongest person I know. My husband and I are stronger thanks to him and this whole ordeal. Five months in and we just can’t get enough of him. He is our world, our light, our little miracle.